


Summer Jobs and Beach Dogs

by Skyler10



Series: Expats in Florida [1]
Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Divorce, Dogs, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Florida, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Mentions of Anxiety, Past Abuse, Puppy Love, Romance, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Walks On The Beach, artist rose, expat life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-26
Updated: 2016-06-26
Packaged: 2018-07-18 10:16:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,240
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7310899
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skyler10/pseuds/Skyler10
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>While expats in Florida during the hottest summer on record, two Londoners meet via their puppies. Rose is starting work as an art instructor on the activities staff at a local beachside resort. John Noble Smith is a PhD student bartending at the same place. But what happens with summer ends?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Summer Jobs and Beach Dogs

**Author's Note:**

> For TPP's four ficlet prompts this week. See if you can spot 'em all!  
> [it’s really hot here and you’re really distracting]  
> [my a/c is broken can I stay here til it’s fixed?]  
> [summer dates or summer romantic gestures]  
> [dangerous summer situations, weather, or overheating]
> 
> This is pure fluffy tooth-rotting romantic fluffiness. But at a serious moment there is a brief mention of past abuse (Jimmy) and infidelity (Reinette). Also trigger warning for unrealistic expectations of expat life. lol But overall, my usual happy, sugary, lovey-dovey drivel. ;D

 

Rose Tyler hadn’t lived in Florida long, only up to Orlando for a few days of touring and to see her family off at the airport, plus a few days of moving in. She had finally found a cheap flat not too far from the bus stop to work, and acquired the unlimited monthly pass for said bus after a long line at the transportation office. Oh, and she had acquired a dog.

It wasn’t intentional; the poor thing just followed her home, sat outside her door, and followed her to the bus stop every time she went anywhere. It was old enough she wasn’t concerned about it being away from its mother, but still quite a young pup. It was house-trained though. Once Rose had invited her inside, starting on a windy and rainy night, it used the built-in doggie door and hadn’t once messed up the carpet.

Right now, it was patiently waiting outside the market as she picked up groceries for her tiny kitchen. She didn’t know exactly what variety of dog it was, but with her luck, she was sure it would get much bigger and eat more than she could afford.

Rose found herself in an aisle she’d never had reason to go down, staring at chew toys and bone-shaped treats.

That’s when she realized the puppy was more than a curiosity of this new location. It her pet.

* * *

 

John Noble Smith sighed in his quiet flat. Kasterborous sensed his anxiety and laid his head on his master’s lap. The chocolate lab’s big eyes seemed to pierce right through his heart.

“Hey mate, what do you say we go for a run?” He scratched right behind Kaster’s ears.

John pushed aside his dense and frankly quite boring dissertation prep and took the leash from its place by the front door. The half-grown dog nearly clobbered him in excitement.

He was grateful for the leash not five minutes later when they reached the sidewalk next to the building and a blonde cocker spaniel mix barked furiously at Kaster. Naturally, Kaster took it as an invitation to play. The smaller dog snarled in indignation.

“Oh, sorry!” the pup’s equally blonde owner rushed to explain. “We just got back from the vet and I haven’t had a chance to get her collar on her yet. I’m so sorry.”

“You’re not American either!” John responded in delight, brushing off her apology. “Good to hear a bit of London around here.”

 The blonde human blushed and shuffled a full Petco bag in her arms to extend a hand.

“Hi, I’m Rose.”

“John,” he returned, shaking her hand with gusto and for a bit longer than was standard. “You know, it can be lonely at times over here, feeling a bit alien and all.”

A guarded look fell over Rose’s demeanor as she tried to read his intentions.

“Oh! I just mean, it’s nice. To hear you. Um… Meet! Meet you,” John bumbled. “Rose, it was nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you too. John, was it?” She smiled again as he nodded. “And sorry again about… my dog.”

She said the words awkwardly, as if she wasn’t quite used to them.

“What’s her name?” He knew she was inching away to leave, but he couldn’t help but draw out his time with her.  And after this kind of first impression, he wouldn’t blame her if it was their last.  

“I, well this is a bit embarrassing, but I haven’t actually named her yet. She just kind of showed up when I moved in. I think she got left behind when the last person in my flat moved out.”

John noted the flutter in his heart as she bent down to pet the poor abandoned pup. He was hardly aware of crouching down next to her until his gob was once again invading her privacy.

“New to town then?”

She surprised him by not shying away, but meeting his concerned eyes with her own.

“Yeah. And you’re right. It is hard. Feeling alien.”

“Rose…”

“Mmhm?” Was it his imagination or was she checking him out? Gods, she was gorgeous. His heart pounded in his chest and his anxiety got the better of him.

“Right then!” He popped up to standing and felt a little lightheaded. She stood too, but slower. Blimey, was that disappointment on her face? Nah. He was sure as soon as she walked away the conversation would replay in his head as it always did, and he’d realize all the ways he had royally mucked it up with another beautiful woman.

“Until next time,” Rose finally said, probably just to fill the silence and end this awkward encounter.

“Next time. See you around, Rose.” He gave her a little salute (a salute?!) and walked away, backwards.

“Oi, do watch out—” she called after him. It took until he was already tripping over Kaster’s leash before he realized what she was saying. “Never mind.”

He recovered his balance quickly, but his face was a bright red anyway. He waved and headed off, this time the right way ‘round.

* * *

 

Rose held back a laugh as she watched him go. There was just something charming about him. The wild hair, the sincerity in his dark eyes, his skinny figure and long limbs. She turned to climb the stairs and, of course, her puppy followed.

She wrestled with the key, opened the door long enough for the puppy to come in behind her, and set the pet supplies on the counter. She wondered if he realized he matched his pet: the blue leash was the exact color of his shirt and the brown fur was a perfect match for his own hair.

She noted the hypocrisy in her train of thought as she pulled a pink collar out of the Petco bag and beckoned to the feisty and protective blonde spaniel.

Something shiny caught her eye as she bent down to secure the collar around the pup’s neck. A reflection of the sun on something metal. Upon closer examination, it was coming from the dog’s mouth.

“What have you got there, yeah?” Rose beckoned, hesitant to stick her fingers between those teeth, but also not wanting to let her dog choke to death when she’d technically only been its official owner a few hours.

She tried the only trick she knew. She pet the soft, freshly groomed fur on the puppy’s back. Sure enough, the pink little tongue came out as predicted and something round and gold hit the floor with a clatter.

“Sarah Jane,” Rose read the tag aloud. “Is that your name?”

The puppy gave Rose her full attention and placed her front paws on Rose’s lap.

“Not a typical name for a dog, I’ll give you that. Come here then.”  She fastened the name tag on the pink collar next to her contact information. “My mum got a dog when I moved out. Little Yorkshire terrier. Named her Daisy.”

Rose realized what she was doing and stood, shaking her head. _This is how it starts_ , she thought to herself as she prepared for her first day of work in the morning. Soon she would be known as the weird English girl who talks to her dog.

* * *

 

John slowed his running pace to a walk and dropped his tired body onto his favorite bench along this stretch of beach. He let the sweat pour off of him as Kaster played with the seagulls at his side. Inexhaustible, that dog was.

“It didn’t go _that_ badly, right?” John asked aloud. “I mean, she could have told me to shove off. Instead she said ‘next time.’ Implying, of course, that there is going to be a next time. Or at least, that she wouldn’t mind it. Probably could have done without the salute though. And tripping over you.”

A passing couple gave him an odd look. He decided it was time to head home before he gained a reputation.

After all, these would likely be his customers come tomorrow afternoon. Not even a mile away, he was starting his usual summer job: bartending for the rich tourists of the biggest resort in town.

* * *

 

Rose arrived at the sprawling property with not an insignificant amount of awe plainly written on her features. This hotel was BIG. The white antebellum buildings stretched high and wide, landscaped with tropical plants that would grow in this heat and humidity.

The temperature had seemed to jump overnight. When she moved in, the property manager of her flat had said the AC was being fixed in her half of the building, but it wasn’t until early this morning that the full force of a Floridian summer hit. She felt bad leaving Sarah Jane alone as it was, but she left fans running and plenty of food and cold water in the dog’s dishes. She’d be home for her lunch break, one of the perks of living so close, even if the neighborhood of the resort and the run-down little flat that she could afford might as well be worlds apart.

Rose tried not to crumple the printed email in her hand with the instructions for the day. Check in with the activities director. Meet with HR. Attend an orientation with the rest of the new summer events and activities staff. A full hour for lunch. Then… it began. An afternoon full of painting classes with kids, then retirees, then guests of any age. The last was the one she was looking forward to the most. It was an outdoor event on the schedule. She was to teach them to paint the beach. Rose contemplated her task as she navigated the corridors of the resort’s business office building: How could she convey in 45 minutes how to capture how the ocean met the shore?

That poetic thought was cut off by her own knock on her new supervisor’s door.

* * *

 

John washed out a daiquiri glass, grimacing at the hot water. His bar had plenty of fans and shade, but in Florida, it didn’t matter. Humid heat was inescapable. Which meant the guests were most likely indoors today. The resort had all sorts of classes and activities inside to keep them entertained: jewelry making, board games, movies, an entire sports complex, art…

Out of the blue, he wondered if those activities counted as dates. Staff got free access to the ones that weren’t full. The resort managers felt it helped the guests feel like the classes were well-attended even when they weren’t and helped the staff feel like they received “perks” for working there. He supposed if he bought her dinner first, or after, it could count. Or would she see it as cheap?

He realized he wasn’t thinking in the abstract any longer, but specifically picturing Rose. Rose the girl with the dog who he had only just met yesterday. The one he had been a complete geek in front of when they met. He hardly knew anything about her. He didn’t even know her last name or if he’d ever see her again!

He sighed and switched the tap to cold for a second. He relished the feeling on his skin, then reluctantly turned it off and dried the last glass. He flipped the towel over his shoulder with a fancy twist of the wrist and slid the glass across the counter with the perfect amount of force so it landed exactly in its place. The perks of being a physics doctoral candidate.

“You think you’re so impressive,” a familiar voice teased from across the bar.

“Rose!” He whipped around to face his only customer, who was perched on a bar stool. “I… Are you? Here?”

“Oh, a guest?” She laughed with that golden twinkle in the sound. “No, god no. I’m an art teacher.”

“Then what? How?” He furrowed his brow at his inability to complete a sentence.

“I mean, I’m an art teacher here. At the hotel. I’ve got a painting class in a few minutes.” She gestured to an overlook with picnic tables, boxes of supplies, and a clear view of the ocean. “Last one of the day.”

“And you thought you’d have a drink first?” He grinned, switching into bartender mode. He leaned over the counter and whispered, “Posh old people got you hitting the bottle already?”

“Oh, honestly.” She rolled her eyes and slapped his shoulder, an intimate gesture he took to be a very good sign, even if it stung a bit. “My earlier class was quite lovely, ta. The pensioners were very kind and the kids… well, it was a class full of kids, but they were alright, considering they were so happy to be away from their parents.”

“Can I get you anything?” he asked, trying very hard to maintain his professionalism while his heart was doing a jig to the tune of her name. Not only did he get to see her again so soon, but it sounded like they would be seeing quite a bit of each other over the summer.

“What do you recommend?”

“My favorite’s a banana daiquiri. See that gentleman over there?” John pointed to a greying, overweight, sunburnt man with a much younger woman on his arm. “Very satisfied customer. Comes here specifically for my special recipe.”

“You really do think you’re impressive,” Rose concluded with a peak of her tongue out the corner of her smile. Oh, he hoped that was a habit of hers because he would do anything to make her do it again. “Probably shouldn’t though. At least not today. Banana smoothie instead?”

“Ah. Yeah, drinking adult beverages on the job is probably frowned upon on your first day, isn’t it?” He started mixing the ingredients for the fruity drink.

“Just a little, yeah.” She nodded with a wry twist of her lips. “But...”

Unfortunately he had just flipped on the blender at that point and didn’t hear what she said next.

“Sorry, what was that?” he asked, handing her the drink.

“I said I didn’t originally come over here for the smoothie.”

“No?” He raised an eyebrow in casual interest on the outside while his heart resumed its pounding on the inside.

“The shade,” she explained with a gesture to the ceiling of his cabana-hut-bar.

“Oh. Of course.” He tried not to let his disappointment show by rubbing at a spot on the bar with his towel.

She took a sip of the drink, wrapping her lips around a very lucky straw. “This _is_ very good, thanks.”

“Yeah?” He glanced up at her in hope, but quickly resumed scrubbing at the dried water spots and spills on the bar instead, afraid she would see just how much he wanted her to like him.

“Yep. Plus, you know, it’s really hot here and you’re really distracting.” What she didn’t know, or maybe didn’t care about, was that even though he was looking at the shiny bar instead of her, he could still see her reflection checking him out. This time there was no doubt.

“I’m what?” His head shot up as her words registered.

She blushed and backtracked.

“I mean, the cold drinks and all. You were handing out… Anyway, I should be going!” She hopped off the barstool, flustered by her verbal slip.

“Don’t forget your drink,” he reminded her.

“Oh, and here.” She held out enough cash to cover the drink.

“It’s on me.” He refused her money with a wave of his hand.

“Allow me to pay you back somehow…” She thought for a second and blurted out, “My art class! Of course. Want to come paint with us? It’s open to all ages and you don’t have to stay the whole time. At least until you get another customer? You can watch the bar from there.”

“I probably shouldn’t.” It nearly killed him to say it, despite being not at all interested in the art class itself. It was worth it though for his next line. “But instead, you could come back here after you’re done? I’ll be off in a little less than an hour.”

He was sure his ears were the reddest they could be. He tugged at one and it felt hot to his touch. (Of course, this was Florida, what didn’t here?)

“Yeah, ok. Maybe a walk along the beach?” Her teasing smile came out again. “You can impress me with your wisdom on living in America.”

“Sounds like a fair trade to me, Rose…”

“Tyler. Rose Tyler.”

“Rose Tyler.” He loved the flavor of it on his tongue, the way it felt in his mouth.

“I’ll be right back, mister.” She had begun to walk away, but turned back to point at him with the hand not holding her drink. “Don’t disappear on me.”

“Never,” he pledged, meaning it far more than she knew. 

* * *

 

When she got off work, he was right where she left him, as promised. His replacement at the bar offered to make them both drinks as they left, but they refused, both secretly hoping they would finish their beach walk with dinner.

They did, no thanks to John’s first few failed attempts to get the question out without rambling about the history of the area’s best restaurants.

They ended up with burgers and fries, as they were called here, and a seat on the patio of a casual grill. It was an unobstructed view of the shore, however, so she gave him points for the romantic atmosphere. She wouldn’t have been up for a fancy place anyway, with sand on her feet from the beach and no time to dress up after a long first day on the job.

They chatted about the beach town, the things they missed about London, their dogs…

“Oh! Sarah Jane! I almost forgot,” Rose checked her phone for the time. She laughed nervously in self-deprecation. “God, I’m such a bad mum.”

“Sarah Jane? Is that? I didn’t realize. Do you have a…?”  John floundered. She realized what she had said and how it sounded.

“No! No, not a… I didn’t mean mum like… I don’t have kids,” she finally got out. “I was just joking. I meant my dog.”

“Ah! You named her, then?” John sat back in his chair, visibly relieved she hadn’t popped out news about a significant other and children. She almost teased him about it, but decided against it.

“I think it was her name before. She found it on a collar tag in the flat. Tried to eat it, of course. But she seems to respond to the name, so it stuck.”

The bill came and John paid, much to Rose’s protest that it was her turn after the drink earlier. He refused again, and she felt confirmed in her suspicion that this was their first date.

A funny thought struck her about that.

“Speaking of names, you know mine, and now my dog’s. But here I am out to dinner with you, and I don’t know yours beyond ‘John’, which is frankly so generic, I’m not even sure if I believe you.”

John signed the receipt and sent her an amused smile.

“Well then, you’re really not going to believe this.”

He handed her his credit card.

“John Smith,” she read. “You’ve got to be kidding. What, is this your fake card for, I don’t know, avoiding credit card scams or something?”

“Nope.”

Her eyes grew wide and she leaned across the table. “ _You’re_ not committing a credit card scam, are you?”

“What!” He laughed. “No, I just have the most boring parents in the universe. At least my half-sister got the more heroic sounding last name.”

“What’s hers then?”

“Donna Noble.”

“See, that name sounds commanding. Regal, even.”

“And you haven’t even met her yet. You have no idea,” he said with a pointed look. Rose laughed at his dig at his sister, but secretly thrilled at his “yet” implication.

They enjoyed strolling back along the beach, chatting the whole way. Rose couldn’t help but slip her hand into his as the sunset painted the clouds in ways she would never be able to replicate to her satisfaction, no matter how hard she tried.

Once they were on the bus home, he took her hand again, except this time he twined his fingers between hers, decidedly a step up from their earlier clasp. At least in her mind.

Her head told her this was crazy. She still barely knew him. But her heart said there was plenty of time to find out. There was just something about him that made her feel completely safe. As if, as long as she was with him, nothing bad could happen.

Her palm grew sticky with the Floridian heat despite the drop in temperature now that it was getting dark. But she didn’t want to let go.

Eventually, they came to her door. She debated about kissing him goodnight, even licked her lips a bit, but backed away when he didn’t make a move. He eagerly gave her his number “just in case” she ever needed it. She reciprocated and slipped inside, careful not to let Sarah Jane out in the process. It was a good thing too. The puppy bounded all over her and the little flat in excitement that Rose was home.

“Happy to see you too, love. I had the most wonderful day,” she told her dog. “Looks like you’re going to have to learn to love that chocolate lab, because John Smith, if that’s his real name, is someone I hope we’ll be seeing a lot more of around here.”

 _Well, maybe not specifically here,_ Rose thought as she surveyed her half-unpacked, barely decorated flat. But perhaps having a guest to invite over for tea would be just what she needed to make it feel more like home.

* * *

 

The next day, it was far too hot and humid to have the outdoor painting class outside, which meant she hadn’t had a chance to run into John. It was just as well. She spent all day worried about Sarah Jane alone at home. Of course, the puppy could leave for somewhere cooler through the doggie door if she had the sense to do so, and had the fans and a full water dish that could practically double as a bath, but still, Rose had a bad feeling in her gut. And her intuition had served her well in the past.

As soon as she got off work, she raced home, a sharp contrast to her lingering date the night before.

A wave of heat hit Rose as soon as she stepped inside. The flat was baking like an oven.

The little dog was sluggish to respond to the sound of the door opening and Rose calling for her. Rose hadn’t been her keeper long, but she knew it was unlike puppies to show so little interest in anything, especially this one in particular. Rose refilled the half-empty water dish and gathered it and the little pup in her lap. She sat directly in front of the fan and petted her to sleep.

Her fur was far too hot to the touch.

When the little dog’s panting didn’t let up after a long while, a guilty, anxious knot twisted in Rose’s stomach. What if this was what heatstroke looked like in dogs? What if Sarah Jane was really sick and needed help?

She debated. She could call the vet, but they were likely closed by now. She could call the vet’s emergency number, but if the puppy was just hot and tired from running around all day, and she brought her in for nothing, that was a rookie mistake she couldn’t exactly afford before her first paycheck came around.

John. He had a dog. He had said to call anytime, after all. And seemed to mean it. Whenever she needed him, he had said.

Well, she needed him now. She bit her lip and stroked the golden furball in her lap as she waited for him to pick up. He finally did.

“John? It’s me, Rose. I think something’s wrong with Sarah Jane.”

* * *

 

Once again, Rose surprised him with a visit sooner than he had dared to hope. Except this wasn’t under the circumstances he would have wished.

Rose was carrying the sleepy puppy when she arrived. He had mainly told her to come over because she seemed distressed and he wanted to see her again, but it wasn’t until he opened the door for her that he realized just how scared she was.

Having had a sister, he could tell Rose was trying not to cry in front of him.

“Ohmygod, your flat feels so good,” she sighed when she got inside.

“Here, set her down, yeah, right there by the AC vent,” he urged.

“What do you think?” she asked, hovering over the puppy. “Should I call the vet?”

He repeated the list of symptoms he had asked her on the phone and she answered no to all but a few of them.

“Honestly, I think she’s going to be fine. We’ll just keep her cool and near water,” he assessed.

“Wait, where’s your dog?”

“Kasterborous. But I call him Kaster. He’s watching cartoons.” John jerked a thumb towards the bedroom.

“What? Are you serious?” She blinked at him.

“Yeah, it’s the only thing that keeps him calm. Helps him get to sleep,” he said with a shrug, hoping she wouldn’t think this was too weird.

“Hey, whatever works,” she accepted easily. She hummed in thought and brushed her fingers through her puppy’s fur one last time before standing. “Maybe I should try that myself. Haven’t been sleeping well in this heat.”

The puzzle pieces fell into place as he stood too and noted the extra pink in her face and the way her hair clung to her brow.

“Oh! You’re on the other side of the building. That’s the ones they are still working on, yeah?”

“It’s bloody awful, John!” she burst out. He guided her to the sofa and she sat down with her face in her hands for a moment. He grabbed glasses of cold water for them both from the kitchen and handed one to her. He sat down and dared to rub a hand across her back in comfort.

“Don’t. I’m disgusting.” She shrugged him off and sat up. “I mean, I knew Florida was hotter than England. I’m not an idiot, but I just had no idea it was going to be like this.” She was near tears now. The shock on her own face told him even she didn’t realize how the stresses of the transition were wearing on her until now.

“I know,” he soothed. “It’s ok, I had a hard go of it myself, and this is an unusually hot one, even for here. And you’re on the wrong side of the building. Sun shines right into those windows all day.”

“Yeah. And my AC’s broken. John…” She paused for a long while to sip at her water, but he waited. “Is it…”

“What is it?” he prodded, trying and failing to catch her eye. “Rose?”

“Is it ok if I stay here for a bit?” She twisted her hands around the condensation of the water glass and looked up from her lap. If those long lashes and amber doe eyes of hers could ask him to cross universes, he would do it at her request. Luckily, though, he could think of nothing better than having her in his flat for a few days.

“Rose Tyler, I would love to have you stay with me until your AC is fixed.”

“Until it’s fixed?” she asked in disbelief. She set her water glass on the side table and turned to face him more fully. “That could take days! I only meant tonight… Really?”

“Really,” he took her hands from her lap and clasped them in his own. “It would be my honor.”

“Wow,” Rose breathed out, so quiet he could barely hear it. She looked very much like she was about to kiss him. He panicked, of course, and stood, taking their empty water glasses back to the kitchen.

“Besides,” he quipped when he returned from the other room, “there’s so much I don’t know about you yet.”

* * *

 

After a good night’s rest in a cooled flat, Sarah Jane and her “mum” were feeling exponentially better. Rose had popped back to her place to gather some necessities while John got his sister’s room ready. Now she was trying not to feel weird setting up her few things in another woman’s place.

“Donna’s in Spain for the summer,” he had explained. “We usually share when uni’s in session. She’s an office manager there, but she gets the summer term off while her boss is away doing research. It’s been really quiet around here.” He had had an almost wistful tone as he said it. As much as he joked about his sister, Rose could tell he really missed her.

But Rose was grateful for her absence, if for no other reason than the spare bed.

* * *

 

Sarah Jane and Kasterborous became fast friends, much to the joy of their owners. Rose and John even decided to take them out for walks together on the beach. Sarah Jane’s short spaniel legs couldn’t quite keep up with the young lab’s speed when running, but they enjoyed each other all the same. They spent their evenings watching cartoons together, giving their humans some time to themselves.

One night, with the help of a quality bottle of wine and the comfort of a pile of pillows in a dimly lit living room, Rose and John began to open up with more information about their pasts than they had shared in their daily lives together.

“So why bartending?” she had asked. “I mean, I know it’s just a summer job and that you love a good banana daiquiri and if this glass is any indication, you have very good taste in wine.”

“Glad you like it, ta.” He poured her another as he contemplated his answer. “My friend Jack got me into it. At first I thought ‘oh, that’s just Jack.’ He’s a real partier, you know.”

“No, I don’t know. He’s the one in the photos, yeah?” Rose had stumbled across John’s nearly bare Facebook page and, much to John’s chagrin, found some incriminating photos of John scowling at a handsome bloke who had a roguish look about him. Rose felt as if Jack were coming onto her through the screen. Not that she would mind if he were. “Am I going to meet this Jack any time soon?”

“Not if I can help it,” John mumbled. “Anyway! Finally gave in and checked it out, discovered it was a posh resort instead of the seedy club I was picturing—”

“—knowing Jack,” she finished for him.

“Exactly. And the rest is history. When I’m not studying or teaching, I’m picking up a few shifts there throughout the school terms as well.”

“Do you ever go back home? To Britain?” Rose grew serious and swirled the wine in her glass. “Do you miss it?”

“Nah,” he denied, not entirely convincingly, and sniffed. “Nothing there for me anymore. Donna’s all the family I’ve got. Parents died when I was young. She goes back to see her grandad, and I’ll join her some holidays, but it’s better for me not to.”

“I’m sorry about your parents. And I understand.” She stroked his arm, feeling bold from the wine. “I really do. I lost my dad when I was a baby. My mum and I were happy, but then I grew up and I wanted more. So did she. I left her alone while I went to art school and she married my stepdad. And he’s great. I love him. But I never really belonged back there, you know? Especially after they had my half-brother. I love that kid, but he’s not mine, you know? And they’ve got this whole other life together as a family…”

“Yeah,” John sighed. “I’ve never really been good at the whole family thing, being domestic. Relationships.”

“Doing pretty good from my point of view.” Her voice was low and a hint sensual. She was doing that thing where she leaned into him with her lips looking extremely kissable.

He leaned back against the pillows they had piled in front of the couch and squinted his eyes shut.

“Rose, there’s something you should know. Another reason I don’t go back to London often.”

She sat up straighter and tilted her head a bit. “Yeah, what is it?”

“I was… married. Before. It didn’t last very long. She was French. And far more interested in her friends than me. Well, I suppose the important bit was that she was more interested in her boyfriend than me.”

“I’m so sorry, John. That’s awful.” She placed her hand over his on his knee. “You deserve so much better than that.”

“Yeah?” He sent her a grateful smile as they intertwined their fingers. “I should have seen it from the start. I just didn’t want to. I’ve had to learn to forgive myself, and it hasn’t always been easy. I was young and stupid and didn’t have anyone to stop me. I was too blinded by Reinette’s charm to listen to Donna and my friends.”

“Well, I’ve never been married, but I can relate to that.” She regarded him seriously for a moment, then lifted up her shirt.

“Rose!” He felt silly for assuming what she was doing when she stopped halfway up, turned, and showed him a thin, pale scar along her side.

“His name was Jimmy,” she confessed. “I dropped out of school for a year to be… I don’t know. Whatever I was to him. Backup singer in his band, officially.”

“Oh, Rose.” He tentatively ran a finger over the scar. “And this?”

“He came home pissed a lot. And angry. So angry. But I didn’t tell anyone because I thought I loved him. And that love would change him somehow. One night, a gig didn’t go well. And he knew I’d caught him with someone else, so _that_ didn’t help. We got in a fight outside the pub where we were playing that night. After the gig was over, he dragged me into the alley and said terrible things…” Rose paused and shook her head, blonde waves falling to hide her face. John reached up to brush it back behind her ear. She turned to face him at the motion, and he realized she was shaking. “He shoved me down onto a broken bottle. Had to call a friend to take me to the hospital. I got stiches, called my mum, and that was that. I moved out, went back to school, and never heard from him again.”

John didn’t know whether he wanted to find this Jimmy fellow and beat him to a pulp, tell her everything she probably already knew like how it wasn’t her fault, or cuddle her into his arms and never let her go. He opted for the last one.

“So, you see,” she mumbled against his shirt, “I’m not good at relationships either.”

He pulled back in shock.

“Rose, that’s not being bad at relationships. That’s abuse.”

“Don’t call it that.” She shook her head.

“It is though! What do you call it?” She didn’t answer that but looked away, so he dropped the matter. “Are you going back to London in the fall?”

“That’s the plan. Teaching art in the evenings, working at my dad’s company during the day.”

“Oh yeah, what does he do?” John asked, primarily to get off the topic of failed past relationships.

“Um… He works at Vitex.”

“The sports drink company?”

“Yeah.”

“What does he do there?”

Rose squirmed and coughed out her answer.

“Sorry, what was that?” he pressed.

“He’s the president. And founder.”

“Pete Tyler? Your dad is Pete Tyler?” John gaped at her in shock and smacked his forehead. “That’s right! Donna’s read about you in the papers. She drools over your ballgowns or whatever you girls wear to those red carpet things.”

This made Rose blush as red as her namesake.

“Yeah, I don’t like to talk about it much. It just attracts a lot of senseless attention. Another reason I’m here and not, well, there.”

“But why _here_ here?” He gestured to the flat around them. “Surely, you don’t have to teach at the resort. You should be staying there! Is it your dad? Does he not…?”

This made Rose sit up tall and raise her chin in defense like the powerful heiress she was. 

“He helped find the job, but financially, I wanted to do this on my own. Even if he hadn’t adopted me when he married my mum, he’d have paid for it all in a heartbeat. But I didn’t want that, and he respects me enough to let me.”

With that said, she leaned back against the pillow and waited for his response.

“Yeah. Ok,” John accepted, mirroring her position. “Rose Tyler, you are something else.”

“What about you?” she flipped the conversation back to him. “Working your way through school. Making it without your parents. Getting your PhD in something I will never understand.”

“Sure you could. If you sat still long enough for me to explain it to you.” He teased her with a playful twinkle in his eye.

“Me? _I’m_ the one who has a problem sitting still?” she asked, incredulous at his insinuation. “You, Dr. Hyper, are the one who fidgets his way through my entire 45-minute painting class.”

“I don’t attend your painting class,” he pointed out, failing to also mention that he wasn’t a doctor yet.

“No, but I can see you at the bar. You’re always in motion. Even when there’s no customers.”

“Have you been watching me, Rose Tyler?” He smirked.

“Maybe I have.” This time when she leaned in, he did too. She scooted closer and stretched up as he brought his lips down on hers. She lifted a hand and raked it through his wild hair, using it to tug him closer and kiss her again. His hand moved to her hip and pressed down. He had no idea how long it took them or how they got this way, but it registered that at some point they had gone horizontal, with her stretched out underneath him. It was all heavenly, except for one _growing_ problem in his pants that would make things awkward very soon. He knew neither of them was ready for that step yet.

He eased out of the snog, using all his willpower to do so. They said their goodnights (with another, much more chaste kiss), and she sauntered off to her room, swinging her hips more than he was sure was entirely necessary.

* * *

 

Before the end of the summer, no one bothered to stop snogs from escalating ever again. Even after her AC was fixed, they spent more time together than apart, neither of them mentioning the day was coming when she would board a plane back to her life in London. As July neared to a close, their weekends grew more full of adventures, their nights more passionate, their lovemaking more desperate, and their dogs more attached.

Rose paced her kitchen with an envelope in hand. It was unopened so far, university seal on the front in pristine condition, but becoming less so in her sweaty, anxious hands. This letter held all of her hopes for her future. It was this or return to her old life… one without him in it. As silly as she knew it sounded, she just couldn’t imagine that life. Sure, they would have phone calls and email and chat. She might even persuade him to video call. But it wouldn’t be the same. And what for? What kind of life could they have, seeing each other once or twice a year when he came with Donna to visit her grandad?

Either way, she needed to know. She ripped open the envelope and held the letter as still as she could with shaky hands. Her world stopped as she read the words over and over. She let out a shriek of joy, to which Sarah Jane barked in harmony. Rose hugged the dog close to her chest, burying her happy tears in the golden fur.

She had applied, late admission, not long after arriving here. It hadn’t been easy, as she was still having a difficult time adjusting. But drunk on faith and this new doctoral student with his sexy glasses and tousled hair and physics dissertation and chocolate lab and kind heart… she had applied to his university’s dual master’s program in art and education.

And now, this blessed, beautiful piece of paper told her she had been accepted.

She sent a quick text to her family and changed into a sexy but comfortable sundress. She reapplied light makeup and brushed her hair down from where her fingers had raked through it in nervousness.

She grabbed the letter and, closely followed by Sarah Jane, dashed over to his flat. She knocked with the special pattern they had developed.

“Rose? You know I’m working on my…” he trailed off as he saw the elation on her face. “What is it?”

He took off his thick-rimmed black reading glasses and invited her inside. He cleared off a spot on the couch where his papers and books and laptop had been.

“So I did something a little crazy,” she began. “I wasn’t going to tell you if things didn’t work out, but, well, they did.”

“That letter. That’s from my university,” he observed. “Why? What?”

“I applied,” she admitted. “Dual master’s. Art and teaching both.”

“And?” He watched her intently, waiting for the magic words.

“And… I got in!”  She squealed and bounced up and down.

He broke out in a grin and opened his arms. She collided into his hug, wrapping her arms around the back of his neck and pulling him down into a deep snog.

He tightened his arms around her back and used his tongue to express his pride in her, his love for her, and his elation at her news.

Their dogs barked in happiness around them, not quite sure what was happening, but picking up on the joy in the room all the same.  

When Donna returned in the fall, the girls hit it off easily and even ganged up on “the Doctor” (as they had taken to calling him. It caught on with all their friends the more they teased him about his devotion to his studies and his geekish knowledge of the entire universe.)

A year later from the day she decided to stay, they were married on the same beach where they took their first sunset walk. Their dogs served as “flower girl” and “ring bearer” while Donna ordered the catering people about and Jackie Tyler cried and Tony Tyler terrorized the seagulls away and Pete Tyler commented to John that he’d enjoyed meeting Donna’s grandad, Wilf, and would be sure to stay in contact with him so the old man wasn’t so alone across the Pond.

In the end, Mrs. Rose Tyler-Smith looked to her husband and kissed his cheek and told him it was time to go, and the two headed off to their honeymoon and their happily ever after.


End file.
